(Angel’s POV)
The Keep felt wrong.
Lucian prowled the corridors, speaking to no one and everyone—sometimes to me, sometimes to voices only he heard. I’d find him pacing, murmuring to shadows. Sometimes, he scared me.
He said the castle called to him. I believed him, though I knew it was in his head. The place hummed with old power and too much memory.
He was slipping again.
I stood by the window and watched the fog roll in from the forest. Over time, I’d become accustomed to supporting Lucian, steadying him when his madness overtook him, but I felt more like a caretaker than a mate.
The bond sparked at his touch, but it didn’t burn. It just flickered and wavered.
Sometimes I caught myself counting his breaths to make sure he hadn’t stopped. Sometimes I caught myself wishing he would
